


A Family

by MouseyMiss



Category: Orphan Black
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:12:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1682951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MouseyMiss/pseuds/MouseyMiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short little drabble about Helena and Tomas when Helena is thirteen. It's a dark fic, exploring some of the reasons behind her issues. It contains a pretty intense, though not overly graphic depiction of self-harm via cutting, so if this is a trigger for you, you should probably avoid this piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Family

"Helena." Tomas' voice floated to her from down the hall, and her stomach clinched as a quiet whimper slipped from her throat. She wrapped her arms around her pillow, burying her face into it. Maybe if she sat very still, he'd forget. Maybe, if she were very quiet, he would--"Helena." Again, his voice reached her, sharper now with impatience. "Come here, please." She chewed her lip as she pushed herself up from the thin mattress. Arms wrapped around her stomach, she padded down the hall, shivering as the cold concrete pressed against her bare feet. She rounded the corner and stepped up to his chair, head bowed and hands clasped in front of her. 

"Yes, Tomas?" she spoke from behind the curtain of curly blonde hair that hid her face. 

He cupped her chin, lifting her head. "Helena, what have I told you about talking to strangers?" 

She swallowed the knot suddenly lodged in her throat, tears burning in her eyes as she twisted her twig thin fingers together. "That I wasn't supposed to." Helena whispered the words, forcing herself to meet his gaze. 

A soft, sad smile flashed across his lips. "Precisely, child. And why aren't you supposed to talk to them?" 

Helena licked her lips, throat dry and burning. Why had she answered the door earlier? Why hadn't she just stayed in her room, like she was supposed to? Tomas' fingers tightened around her chin, and she swallowed another whimper. Blinking more tears back, she said, "Because they might be shepherds and not sheep." 

Tomas nodded, dropping his hand from her chin. "Very good, child. Because they might be shepherds instead of sheep. That's exactly it. And you don't want the shepherds to find you, now, do you?" 

Shivering, Helena shook her head. "No, Tomas," she whispered. 

Again, Tomas nodded. "Good girl. So you stay away from the door from now on. You hear?" He shook his finger at her as he spoke. 

Helena nodded, watching as he grabbed the small broken razor blade resting in the window behind his head. Wordlessly, he took her hand, pressing the blade into her upturned palm. Her fingers closed around it and she turned, retreating down the hall to her room. Closing the door, she sat down on the mattress, tucking her feet beneath her for balance. She drooped the blade onto the bed beside her, and slipped out of her shirt, pushing it down around her waist. Holding her hair back with one hand, Helena pressed the blade into her skin, and cut. She dragged the razor blade down her shoulder, then out across her back, etching in the feathers. Maybe, if she made the cuts deep enough, one day she really would become an angel. 

Tears stung her eyes, but she kept on, switching to her other shoulder to carve matching lines. She dragged the blade up and down her back, as high and as low as she could reach. As the cuts burned and bled, tears spilled down her cheeks, but she kept on, ignoring them. Again and again, the metal tore at her skin, till once more Tomas' voice reached her from down the hall. "Helena, that's enough, child. Come here and let me see." She pulled her shirt back up, hiccuping out a sob as the cloth brushed against her skin. Wiping the bloodied blade on her jeans, she walked down the hall, and again stood before Tomas. Sniffling, she turned and raised her shirt, unable to keep back a cry as his finger brushed across one of the cuts. 

He pulled her shirt back down, gathered her in his arms and settled her on his lap. She was very small, and very bony, for thirteen, and she fit easily. Stroking her hair, Tomas rocked her gently, shushing her as she buried her face in his chest and cried. "Ssh, Ssh, child, its alright. There, there. Hush, now. All is forgiven." 

Crying still, but quietly now, Helena raised her head and peered up at him. Hiccuping and sniffling, she wiped her tears away with her hand. "Tomas?" Her voice cracked and tore on his name. 

"Yes, child?" He lifted her chin and brushed away the last of her tears. "What is it?" 

"When the others are gone, all the sheep and all the shepherds, me and you and Maggie," she counted out the three of them, one on each finger, "we make a family, yes?" Tipping her head back, she smiled up at him. 

Tomas chuckled quietly, bending down and quickly kissing her forehead. "Yes, child. When all our enemies are gone, we'll make a family." He lifted her to her feet, stood, and took her hand. "Come along now. Time for bed." She started to give the blade back to him, but he shook his head, pressing it back into her hand. "No, Helena. You keep that." He curled her fingers back around the razor blade, patting her hand as he led her down the hall. Pulling back the covers, he smiled at her as she climbed in, stretching out on her stomach. 

"Goodnight, Tomas." She snuggled against the pillow, trying not to move too much. Her back throbbed, each cut aching at the slightest movement. 

"Goodnight, angel." Once more, he bent and kissed her forehead. As he left the room, he turned out the light and pulled the door shut. 

Wrapped in darkness, Helena fell asleep clutching a ragged teddy bear.


End file.
